


No place for the old

by Strudelmugel



Series: Peace and Love [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Angst and Tragedy, Guilt, Homophobia, Hospitals, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Sad, Secret Relationship, Terminal Illnesses, Tragic Romance, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 09:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12956163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strudelmugel/pseuds/Strudelmugel
Summary: On the worst night of Luca's life - tormented by that song he'd grown to hate and forced to watch his world fall apart - he could only reflect on his life as he waited for the inevitable. And just how things had gotten this bad.





	No place for the old

**Author's Note:**

> Luca – Luxembourg  
> Andrei – Moldova  
> Tsvetan – Bulgaria  
> Alin – Romania
> 
> …
> 
> God this is the most miserable thing I've ever written, and that's saying something, let's be honest. Part three of my Poguesverse series, this time with LuxMold and Fairytale of New York. This is also the first story in the series to be told in straight prose and third person.  
> Oh and Bul has an 80s moustache here... because I wanted to?

["It was Christmas Eve babe"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pv0hlbWpa1w)

* * *

 

 

_Christmas Eve, 1987_

* * *

 

He looked as dead as the world around him.

His sunken, black eyes remained shut, translucent lips still and chest faintly rising under his gown, so soft it was possible to think his heart had already stopped. Even his hair, once lush and rich, the colour of wine, had been bled of all shine and cut short. The only splash of colour came from a centipede gash in his skull, visible on a shaved patch of scalp.

The room wasn’t even a beautiful place to die.

Luca was only sure there were worse places because he had seen them for himself, but this grubby, understaffed hospital was definitely up there for him. The grey walls mirrored the grey faces of those in the beds. The dying. The broken. And Luca’s whole world.

Andrei Radacanu didn’t have long left. His face blended with the off-coloured sheets Luca tenderly, lovingly arranged around him in some attempt to keep the eternal winter that had plagued this man for five years at bay. The winter that would never relent, stripping flesh from bone and colour from face and any shred of happiness from their lives.

It was Luca’s fault. He was the only one to blame and he hated himself for it. He’d sell his soul to go back and stop it happening; hell, he’d sell the world to keep Andrei alive.

The man who said he was worth less than a dollar.

* * *

 

_New Year’s Eve, 1980_

* * *

 

“What’s a boy like you doing in a place like this?”

Not the best line he could think of, but it still had the desired effect, mostly because he’d whispered it on the stranger’s neck, caressing his hair as he slipped into the stool next to him. Music blared and people drank and danced, but he only had eyes for the man sitting alone.

The beauty in question wrinkled his nose. “What are you getting at exactly? This is a nice place.”

Luca chuckled, a haughty noise that rang a little too loudly. “This place? Heavens no! Don’t you know it’s full of all sorts of shady characters?” He leaned in closer, taking a sip of wine. “Horrible people.”

The beauty raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Oh yes,” Luca continued, “all sorts, just waiting to make a move on a handsome young man such as yourself.” He ran a hand through the beauty’s hair, nose on his neck. To his credit, the guy didn’t shy away.

“Are you calling yourself shady, by any chance?” He took a sip of his own drink; “just how drunk are you?”

“Not very,” Luca assured him, “I just know a good thing when I see it.”

The stranger’s smile fell. “Don’t mock me. I’m a dog, I know.”

“Who told you that? I’ll kill them.”

“So you _are_ drunk then.”

“Not terribly so,” he pulled back and gave the other a smile, “I don’t have the time or patience to lie, so let me tell you I am enamoured. Maybe because your hair reminds me of red wine. Or maybe your cute face.” He cupped a hand under the beauty’s chin, caressing his lips with a thumb. At least he was starting to get the message now.

“Well aren’t you a charmer. You got a name to go with those flowery words?”

“Luca.”

“Nice, pretty. Like you,” the stranger winked, “I’m Andrei.”

“Glad to put a name to a pair of lips.”

Andrei snorted. “You do this a lot?” He drained the last of his, um, vodka, probably. Luca wasn’t one for spirits.

“Occasionally. When I see someone up to my standards.”

Andrei fiddled with his tie. “I can’t tell if you have low standards or if you’re just toying with me.”

Luca pouted. “Let me buy you a drink in return for a chance to prove it’s neither.”

Andrei grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language, pretty boy.”

Luca ordered a bottle of rosé for them both, and the pair moved to a table in the corner, away from the noise and action and dancing. Pink Floyd was thumping on the jukebox across the room and lights flashed like the Christmas decorations outside. The curved sofa he found himself on was worn and, for some reason, sticky. He tried not to think about it, focusing all his attention on his drink and rather delightful company.

“So what do you do for fun?” asked Andrei, “you know, besides creep on younger guys.”

“You can’t be that much younger, surely?” Luca shook his head, “and to answer your question, I’m an aspiring playwright.”

Andrei laughed. “How pretentious! Just say you’re unemployed.”

“I have a job as a script editor, I’ll have you know!”

“Right, of course. Have you written anything I might have seen?”

“Well, no. That’s the whole point of being an ‘aspiring’ anything.”

But all he got was another laugh. “It was a trick question; I’ve never seen a play.”

“How dreadfully uncultured!” cried Luca in offence. “I might have to change that.”

“Buy the tickets and I’ll go to the opera with you.”

Now it was Luca’s turn to laugh. “You’ve got a problem with the opera too?”

“Never looked like something I’d want to spend money on,” Andrei shrugged; “you seem like the kind of handsome, distinguished gentleman who could convince me otherwise, though.”

A challenge? Well, colour him intrigued. “Let’s just see how tonight goes, okay?” he was smiling though, a knowing smile that told them both the night would end pretty well indeed. Andrei’s grin in return was simply wicked.

“When we finish this bottle,” Luca began, “my I trouble you for a dance? I’d like to see what those legs can do.”

Luca always struggled to remember the blur that occurred next, especially years down the line when things took turn after turn for the worse, but there were always details that stood out to him. Some attempt at dancing, for one, lively then slow as night dragged on til morning. The smell of Andrei’s hair and his cheap aftershave. How his nose never seemed to leave Andrei’s neck for long.

In fact, it took Luca by surprise to find he’d ended up in his apartment at some point during the night. He remembered pushing Andrei onto the bed, Andrei pulling him down and practically wiping his clothes away. Now lips were on his own neck for once, hands everywhere, clumsy, Luca falling back onto his back and moaning shamelessly.

Something about holding Andrei, his voice, his skin against his hands, it made Luca feel complete.

When they awoke the next morning, through their blaring headaches and aching muscles, the two decided to make this a regular occurrence.

* * *

 

If Luca could have his way, Andrei would die on a hillside overlooking a river twisting and turning through a meadow. Birds would be chirping and Andrei could admire flowers of every colour imaginable, surrounding him like an adoring audience. There would be no dying, dried up petals, only fresh, vibrant colour. He’d be wrapped up in bright, crocheted blankets and Luca’s arms. He would be so happy, dying would be an afterthought, the process like drifting into a long sleep.

But, as it was, Luca was lucky he could even keep the man company. A doctor had taken pity on him and looked the other way.

It was clear Luca was more than just the man who ‘found him like that’, but Dr Bonnefoy just smiled and left him be, and Luca was grateful. A sweet soul such as Andrei did not deserve to die alone.

Luca had to place a hand to his chest to check his heart was still beating. How much time was left?

That new Christmas song he’d grown to hate was crackling in his ear from a radio in the corner.

_“It was Christmas Eve babe_

_In the drunk tank_

_An old man said to me, won't see another one…”_

Luca exhaled sharply. He wanted to switch places with Andrei. Not that he wanted Andrei to suffer this level of emotional torment, just live to see another Christmas.

Or four.

In all honesty, Luca’s position wasn’t much more appealing.

* * *

 

_November, 1982_

* * *

 

“Um, hey,” Luca licked his lips, holding the mouthpiece almost to his teeth and twiddling the cord with his other hand. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“Oh, hi,” said the oh so familiar voice on the other side, distant and crackling, “Luca?”

“Of course.”

“I thought I said lose my number.”

He flinched. “I found it again. Look, is it okay if we talk? There’s something I wanna say.”

No one spoke for a moment.

“Are- are you okay?” asked Andrei, “did… did something happen?”

“What? No, I’m fine. I just missed you.”

“Learn to aim the sniper better,” Andrei laughed but Luca didn’t see the humour. “Glad to know this isn’t a ‘contact all previous partners’ scenario. I have enough to worry about.”

Luca chuckled. “No, nothing like that, don’t worry.” His smile fell. “Are _you_ okay though?”

“Oh it’s nothing! Got a bit of the ol’ winter flu, y’know? Been cooped up all week and it’s not letting up.”

“That’s too bad,” Luca bit his lip, “want me to come round and help out?”

Andrei snorted at that. “You want to look after a sick ex? Gee, I wonder what you’re after.”

“You got me,” Luca laughed nervously, “look, that’s what I phoned to talk about.”

“Don’t go thinking you can use me as a booty call after not speaking to me for eighteen months;” Andrei’s voice took on a tone so harsh Luca was left reeling.

“Not at all!” he cried, “I just think, well, I was wondering if you wanted to try again?”

Andrei snorted. “What changed your mind this time? What changed it last time? You just left.”

“I never did explain, did I?” Luca bit his lip, wondering if Andrei actually wanted an explanation now or for him to shut up. Would he think Luca was just making excuses?

“No. No you didn’t.”

He had to try.

“Not a day goes by where I didn’t regret it,” he tried.

“That’s not a reason; that’s slimy bullshit.”

“My parents were nosing into my life,” admitted Luca, “you know: ‘when will you find a nice girl?’ ‘why don’t we have grandchildren yet?’ Look, I didn’t want to give you up but I was scared what would happen if they found out. I… I’m sorry, but I put my comfort before you.”

“You put your safety before a casual relationship,” said Andrei softly, before coughing, “I mean, if that’s true.”

Luca grinned. “Aw, you still care about me. That’s adorable!”

“I was ready to fucking fall in love with you, you asshole!” Andrei exhaled sharply, loud even through the receiver. “Then you leave with no warning!”

Luca practically deflated. He’d been ready to fall in love with Andrei too, though he’d not admitted it to himself in the 2 years he’d known the guy. He wasn’t out, and he wasn’t sure he could manage a real relationship because of it. A relationship would be found out eventually, and then it was out of his control; not to mention, he was a romantic. He wanted to shower his partner with affection and let the whole would know how lucky he was to have such a person in his life.

That was how Andrei made him feel.

But Andrei was a man and they’d both probably get fired. Plus, Luca’s parents would kill them.

Well, maybe not that extreme but life wouldn’t be worth living.

“I’m not leaving this time,” he promised, “I’m ready. What will happen happens and I can live with it. Um, reckon you can too?”

He could practically hear the shrug. “Sure. Make sure to pick up soup on your way over.”

* * *

 

“So happy Christmas

I love you baby

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true…”

Luca hoped he wouldn’t cry. He didn’t want anyone to see him in that condition, and there would be plenty of time for that when Andrei passed on. Hell, Luca still had a few years to do nothing but cry and mourn and lie in the gutter before joining him.

Andrei still could’ve had a few more years too if it hadn’t been for Luca. They knew Andrei was going first, most likely, but it surely wouldn’t have been this quick, right?

No, they’d known guys who’d dropped dead in months. Both of them had been lucky to have had five years together at all.

Luca had been to a lot of funerals recently, but he’d not had to plan one before. Would he even be allowed? Andrei had no family left and a lot of their friends had already died.

Now that he thought of it, Luca might just be inviting his own siblings and no one else.

At least some family members would be there for him; that was something.

Andrei’s dreams weren’t going to come true.

It had been clear for a while now that both of them had nothing in the way of a future – especially these last few months – that living in the moment was the only option, but Luca had held onto hope. A cure would be found before it was too late and they could go back to their plans for the future. The plans shelved and gazed at longingly.

Even now, a tiny part of Luca still wanted Dr Bonnefoy to rush in with a syringe of some experimental cure that would bring Andrei back from the gates of death.

It wouldn’t happen though.

* * *

 

_December, 1984_

* * *

 

Andrei didn’t always hate the cold, but he’d lost a lot of weight recently. Luca refused to think about it though.

Andrei was happy, so what did it matter? He laughed as he pulled Luca along, snow laced in his hair and cheeks like a pair of baubles, slipping in the snow as he barrelled towards the carol singers.

They both adored that aspect of Christmas in particular: the music. Whenever one would visit the other’s house during the past month, a Frank Sinatra LP, wine and messy dancing was usually involved. Andrei would pull off Luca’s tie, and wrap a tinsel one around him instead whilst he himself donned bauble earrings.

Andrei was singing loudly as he crossed the street, clapping along to ‘we three kings’ before giving a spin, and his coat twirled around him. Luca simply followed, laughing.

It wasn’t that he was not feeling the spirit. Well, he wasn’t completely, but he would have if not for that damned cold. He took a hearty slug of mulled wine, but it didn’t kill his raw throat. It did help distract him from his aching legs, so that was something.

What Luca really wanted was to go home and sleep, preferably curled up next to Andrei, but that would come later. Andrei had heard the choir, but his little fifth-floor apartment just wasn’t close enough to appreciate the music.

He could stand to be outside for an hour or so, if that kept Andrei happy. And when they went inside, Andrei could resume singing Christmas singles on the window sill, neon socks swinging in front of the radiator. His personal favourite was ‘stop the cavalry’.

Luca, on the other hand, was going to bed.

“Look at those costumes,” Andrei gushed, and Luca just had to nod. He could feel a headache coming on and a mouth ulcer had shown up at some point during the day. “Those coats! The shawls! They’re perfect!” He clasped his hands together, “I’d love to sew something like that myself!”

Luca hoped it was his imagination, and maybe the streetlights, but Andrei’s face seemed to be discoloured. When had it become so yellow? And why hadn’t Luca paid attention before.

Oh, right, because anything related to their health was ignored.

Andrei really was getting too thin.

“We’re always having openings for this and that at the theatre,” he said instead, “maybe I could put a word in for you?”

Truth be told, he’d put a few words in for Andrei already, but the theatre wasn’t hiring anyone in the costume department at the moment. They would eventually, right? Christ, his uncle owned the place; how hard could it be to throw his name around to get what he wanted?

Andrei working at the theatre would be incredible. Not only could they steal glances on the job, but Andrei would be living his dream. And he’d make a damned good costume designer too!

It wasn’t a guarantee, but it still brought a fire to Andrei’s eyes and a smile to his lips. It was a breath of Christmas cheer and boy did Andrei look like he needed it.

Luca’s headache seared and he gave a sneeze. Andrei decided it was time to lead him back inside.

Back in Andrei’s flat, the two kissed and held each other close, but when Luca’s lips strayed, Andrei fell limp. He wasn’t in the mood. He was too tired to even think, and Luca had to agree.

When Luca woke up in the middle of the night, Andrei’s side of the bed was cold, bathroom light cutting through his vision and the distant sounds of retching could be heard.

* * *

 

_1985_

* * *

 

Andrei refused to see a doctor at first. For months, he would brush off symptoms and problems as Luca finally recovered from his own sickly spell. It was only when he began throwing up blood, feeling like death in the summer sun, that he made an appointment with Dr Borisov, the only doctor he would consider going near.

“I see.” Andrei’s voice was so small, fragile, that Luca had to wonder if he was there at all.

“Stage 1 is nothing to worry about,” Dr Borisov tried to assure him, “even without treatment, you could live for three more years.” His face fell, and even his gaudy, awful moustache seemed to deflate; “not that that’s at all comforting, but the odds are even better with treatment.” He placed a rough hand on Andrei’s own, wasted one.

Luca sat next to him in Dr Borisov’s office, staring as his knees as a hand stirred his insides until he thought he would be sick. Two words resonated through his head.

Liver cancer. Liver. Cancer.

 _Cancer_.

_Why?_

When Andrei asked for himself, Luca’s head snapped up.

“You drink more than me,” Dr Borisov reminded him, “but I think this is the by-product of something else.”

Luca was refusing to believe what he was hearing. “There’s more?” he croaked. Coherent thoughts were escaping him; there was only waves of outrage and he knew he couldn’t stand he was shaking so bad.

He reached a hand out, resting it on Andrei’s bony arm and rubbing with a thumb.

“I know you told me you don’t want to get tested,” Dr Borisov’s eyes bored into Andrei, “and I know you’re scared, but you have to.”

“Tsvetan, please,” Andrei begged, “I don’t-“

“You too, Luca,” said Tsvetan sternly.

“I’m sorry?”

“You mean like how Alin got tested?” spat Andrei before Tsvetan could explain further, “and the doctor told his boss and he got fired?”

Ah, right. Alin. The older brother he’d met a handful of times and got along reasonably well with. The brother so eccentric it was unbelievable. The brother who had planned his own funeral for October. His favourite month, apparently. The funeral was on Halloween and fancy dress. Incredibly tasteless, but it was a dying man’s wish. So many people seemed to be dying; maybe he was just trying to cheer everyone up in his own, twisted, way?

“I’ll test the both of you myself,” Tsvetan assured them, “it’s not like I have to worry about catching anything either.” He winked, and Luca thought he would throw up as his brain finally caught up.

A virus with no cure.

Both he and Andrei could be dead within years.

* * *

 

“I guess there’s no need to put a word in for me.” Andrei was smiling, but he was on the verge of tears. He had been ever since they left Tsvetan’s office.

“Now don’t say that,” Luca choked, “we’re still alive! We… we still have time to do what we want.”

He leaned against the railing as, behind him, Andrei sank lower, almost curled up on the bench he was sitting on. Before them was the sea, calm and grey like the sky above. Clouds blocked any semblance of sun and Luca was oddly glad of it. The world being happy and alive would just be too cruel to look at now.

“We’re dying.”

“Exactly. We have to make this time count.” Luca wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to die and the thought of losing Andrei, seeing him waste away, squeezed his throat until a lump formed in his chest and he thought he would break.

And even on top of their, ugh, – Andrei would need chemo and other gruelling treatments too. He might not survive. It might not work. It could spread to the rest of his body and become impossible to get rid of.

Not to mention, Andrei had hidden it for half a year already. All that time without treatment…

Not that Luca was any less guilty of that. Now they were both terminally ill with less time to plan the end of their lives.

“I’m sure you could work your job around your treatment, right?” he asked, “I’m sure your boss could give you the time off; you’re a hard worker.”

“I’m not getting treatment,” he said simply.

“Funny.”

“I’m serious,” said Andrei, “I can’t afford treatment without selling a cancer-free organ and what would even be the point in trying? I’m going to die anyway.”

“You can’t be serious,” Luca practically cried, “come on, dear!” He sank down next to Andrei, taking his hand in his own, gloved ones.

“Knowing me,” he sighed, “the last day of chemo will be the day I contract some infection that kills me.” The pair tried to smile, but Luca’s face just crumpled instead.

“What if I paid for it?” he tried, twiddling his thumbs. Luca had lost a lot of weight, naturally. Or unnaturally. This virus was the single most terrifying thing he’d heard of, even before he contracted it.

Andrei gave a whine. “Don’t. Don’t go forking out hundreds for me, for Christ’s sake.”

“What if I wanted to?” he offered.

“And how would your dad feel about all that money going missing from your bank account? To pay for chemo you clearly don’t need?”

“What if a cure for our, erm, colds was discovered?” Luca tried, “would you want to live then? Because I couldn’t live in a world without you!” He couldn't say it, the name of the virus. It tore out his tongue and clawed at his throat.

It was a while before Andrei spoke again. “I might consider it. But come on, I can’t be worth the risk!”

This again? How would he phrase it this time? “You are worth more to me than the rest of the city. Screw it, the world!” He closed his damp eyes, breath hitching, “I don’t want to see you die.”

“I don’t want to think about you dying,” Andrei replied. “I hope you live to see a cure, because I don’t think I will.”

“You might if you got treatment,” Luca suggested, “maybe the cure will be found in five years? You might want to survive until then.”

“I think, by then, I might be a little too ill to try any treatment,” Andrei took a deep breath, and Luca could almost hear his chest rattling.

“Please try. For me.”

“Luc.” Andrei turned to him, head lolling and eyes drooping, “it’s not been a year and I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t want to put off the inevitable, especially when it means living in constant pain. I don’t want to live like this.”

“And what would Alin say to that? Would he want you giving up on life?”

It was like Andrei had snapped. His face was a mess of fire and tears as he balled his fists. “Shut up! He’s only been gone a week!”

“There’s no need to rush to join him though!” cried Luca, “he’s waiting for you patiently and would want you to live!”

Andrei was on his feet now. “What would you know of what he’d have wanted? He’s my brother!”

“I know he loved you, very much.” Luca sank lower. “Please. Don’t give up.”

Andrei shook his head. He turned his back on Luca, choosing to glare at the sea instead. “I have, Luca. I don’t know why you expected otherwise. And why on earth would you care anyway? I gave you this disease; why would you even want me to live?”

Luca was gobsmacked. His mind shut down as the words Andrei just spoke slowly filtered into his mind. He looked down at his trembling hands.

“You can’t honestly think that,” he whispered, “Andrei, I love you. I can’t live without you. And how the hell could you have known things would turn out like this? You didn’t know you were infected! Hell, I might have infected you the first time round, so how can you be so sure it was your fault?”

Andrei shrugged. “It’s me though, isn’t it? I got ill first.”

“It’s not certain.”

“It is. And I deserve to die,” he tried to be flippant, but his voice still hitched, “I practically murdered you. You get the death penalty for murder, right?”

Luca narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to act like you’re not scared?”

“Oh no,” Andrei turned back to him in tears, “I’m terrified.”

* * *

 

_“You're a bum_

_You're a punk_

_You're an old slut on junk_

_Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed…”_

Luca wondered if he was allowed to turn that fucking song off. God, he hated it. The words were knives in his chest, a book of all the terrible things he’d done waiting for him when he died.

A nurse strode past and he tugged at the sleeves of his coat.

_“You scumbag, you maggot_

_You cheap lousy faggot_

_Happy Christmas your arse_

_I pray God it's our last…”_

Luca felt like shit. He was dying but that was at the back of his mind in regards to how overwhelmingly awful he felt. His mind scrabbled for anything that could help here, but somehow things were more hopeless than they’d ever been, than he ever thought possible. Even the more ridiculous notions of a miracle were wiped out by the fact that Andrei was slipping away like he was made of sand, ready to crumble through Luca’s fingers.

There was a good chance the song would last longer than Andrei Radacanu.

* * *

 

_October, 1987_

* * *

 

Even the very memory brought another coughing fit as he waited, crouched by the radiator, back baking but legs frozen and stretched out before him. He’d not bothered to turn on the lights because every penny counted now, for the first time in his life.

Luca could feel his father’s breath on his face, screaming that he was an ungrateful brat who had thrown everything back in his family's face, spat at his feet. All the clichés. Mr Morgens had given him thousands of dollars to live on, and this was what he did with it? He couldn’t even make his family proud in return? All sense of defiance had been stripped from him; there was only guilt left.

He wanted to see Andrei, to find some reassurance that what they had was nothing to feel guilty about.

Luca wasn’t sure how they were supposed to survive whatever time they had now. His sister was in Spain, and his brother was at sea and he didn’t even want to tell them what had happened. Father would soon tell them and they’d come looking for him.

He didn’t want to tell Andrei either.

The foreman had let Andrei go last year, when working became too painful for him. Though he had a new job at a greengrocer’s, it had been Luca’s insistence on helping him with the rent that was keeping them both housed at this point. Now what?

He was going to be sick.

_“I’d kill you myself, but God had already given you your punishment. You and this boy were struck down with the gay plague for your sins so don’t ask me to help cure him!”_

Luca covered his mouth with a hand as rapid blinking did nothing to dry his eyes. A raspy, drooling cry escaped him, soaking his fingers with spit. His sobs were coughs and the whimpers of a small child.

He didn’t hear the footsteps outside, and jumped at the sound of a key in the door. A yellow, flickering, hall light burned his eyes as he shielded himself from the horrified silhouette of his boyfriend.

“Luca? Oh God Luca what’s happened?” Andrei was kneeling before him in an instant. “I came as soon as I got your voicemail - what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“I-“ Luca thought he would choke, falling forward and clinging to Andrei’s coat. He pulled the man close. He threw am arm around him. Maybe he could melt into Andrei, maybe Andrei’s beating heart would give him strength.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I… I told my dad. About you. About us.”

“Oh?” Andrei’s look of bewilderment soon turned to one of horror, “oh fuck.”

“I asked him if he’d pay for your treatment,” he admitted, barely audible. “I’m sorry!”

“Luc, I thought we discussed-“

“I’m desperate!” He held Andrei at arm’s length, eyes wild, “I can’t do it! I can’t watch you die!”

“What happened?” was all Andrei cared to reply.

Luca’s face crumpled. “He disowned me. He phoned my uncle and got him to fire me too. I… I don’t have a job.” As he spoke, panic swept disbelief aside at just what was going to happen. “I won’t have money for rent… I’m going to be homeless!”

And you know what? _Good_. He could die in a gutter. Serves him right for messing everything up.

“Like hell you are, you daft boy!” exclaimed Andrei, “you’re moving in with me and finding another job.”

“Oh, dear, you don’t have to-“

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” he gave a shaky smile, “I wanted us to move in together because, damn, I don’t like having you pay my rent. I like my independence and if we were living together we’d both be contributing-“

“Oh God, your rent!” Luca buried his head in his hands, “I’ve killed us both!”

It was only when he felt Andrei squeeze his shoulders that he looked up to find a sad smile greeting him. “Luca, you’re not the only person in this relationship. I'm in this for the rest of my life too. You don’t need to do this alone, dear.”

“But-“

“It’s okay, Luca,” Andrei pulled him into a hug, “we don’t need anyone else. Let’s build our own home together.”

Luca’s laugh brought on another coughing fit. “What happened to not planning for the future?”

“We still need somewhere to live. Why not live together? Supporting each other and getting by.” He almost giggled. “It’ll be like we were married!”

For the first time that day, Luca felt capable of smiling. “That sounds lovely.”

* * *

 

_November, 1987_

* * *

 

“Are you even looking?” He’d paused in the doorway to spit that final line out, their argument apparently not finished yet.

Luca glared from his seat in a battered armchair. He screwed up the newspaper in his bony hands and tossed it aside. “Of course I am!”

Even leaning against the doorframe, clutching his stomach, Andrei held his ground. “Oh really? All you seem to do is mope! I swear you’ve not left the apartment in weeks!”

“You’d mope too! People _know_ , okay? They can see it on me! One look and it’s clear I’m a you-know-what with _you-know-what_!” He pulled back his sleeves to reveal a white and purple painting up and down his arms. “Do you know how hard it is to hide these things? How do you explain being this thin in this day and age? People know, dammit!”

Andrei bit his lip. “Come on, you’ll find something.”

Luca was up now, chasing him into the hall. As Andrei held himself up with the banisters, Luca himself was now using the doorway to stay standing. “Throw me into the streets! I can’t give you anything!”

“You gave me your heart, right? That’s something!”

“Andrei, I’m no good to you. I’m so sorry I can’t… I’m going to end up homeless sooner or later.” He deflated and Andrei snapped.

“Do you have any idea how worried am! It keeps me awake at night wondering what will happen to you when I’m gone.” When Luca stepped forward to hug him, Andrei pushed them both back, holding him at arm’s length at the top of the concrete steps. The hallway was dark, and the other residents were probably either too drunk or coked up to even pay attention to yet another couple’s argument. The building had probably seen worse.

“I’m sorry,” Luca hung his head.

“You’re so fucking reckless!” Andrei continued, “could you not have thought of yourself for once?”

“What?!”

“One of the few things I could count on was that, when I died, you would be set up! That you’d be somewhat fine!” He buried his head in Luca’s chest, feebly pummelling with his fists.

“Andrei-“

“Now what’ll become of you?” The punches grew harder.

“And-“

“Luca I’m terrified! I don’t want to die now!”

“Andrei!”

He only meant to pull them apart. He wanted to hold Andrei and shake some sense into him and say something that would reassure them both.

Whatever strength he found to push Andrei away was lost in a moment and he could only watch the man fall out of his grip. Luca didn’t have even the faintest hope of stopping him when he tripped on the top step and disappeared into nothing.

With a sickening crack, Andrei’s head hit concrete. His limp body slid to the bottom of the stairs and his hair tangled with blood staining the concrete.

“No! Oh fuck, Andrei!” Luca almost tripped in his haste to reach the bottom of the stairs, dropping his knees into red as he scrabbled to hold him. “No, no, no please! Oh God, no please don’t-“ He cradled Andrei in his arms, screaming wails resounding off the walls like mocking laughter.

Andrei felt cold and broken and dead already.

* * *

 

_“I could have been someone_

_Well so could anyone_

_You took my dreams from me_

_When I first found you_

_I kept them with me babe_

_I put them with my own_

_Can't make it all alone_

_I've built my dreams around you…”_

Andrei was cold. The infection that seized the opportunity when his head split open was winning. Luca hauled himself up to check for a heartbeat, scrabbling for a pulse and unsure if he could feel one. He placed a finger to Andrei’s neck, and might have sensed something.

He leaned forward to place one last kiss on Andrei’s forehead before calling for the doctor, but the moment his lips touched that frozen face, he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder.

“Sir, visiting hours are over,” said a grim-faced, stern nurse.

“I’m- Look, can’t I stay a bit longer?” he tried, “Mr Radacanu hasn’t long left. A few minutes, maybe? Let me stay with him.”

The last thing that nurse seemed to want was have Luca in the room for a moment longer. “Sir, you have to leave.”

“Please,” he breathed, “I’m all he had left. His family died a few years back-”

“You have to leave,” she repeated, “don’t make me get security.”

Luca tried to take her hands, but she recoiled in horror. Could she see the blotches on his arms? Or was it just his hollowed cheeks that gave him away as unclean?

“Don’t do this,” he sobbed, “he doesn’t deserve to die alone!”

And yet, screaming and shouting, Luca was dragged from the ward, clawing desperately for his lifeless love. No matter how he writhed and desperately struggled to break free, he was – not so gently – escorted into the wintry night and left sobbing in the car park.

* * *

 

Wind stung hid face as he stared sullenly at the river below. The inky black that flashed with the lights of the buildings all around hypnotised him. The wind rattled his bones and numbed his papery skin.

Andrei would be dead now, he was certain of it.

To his own surprise, Luca didn’t feel like jumping. Oh, he’d never felt so much despair in his life, and his heart could easily anchor him to the riverbed, but something outweighed the despair. Something strong enough to keep him alive.

Outrage.

His eyes burned and, for the first time in weeks, he was a living person. The bones in his shaking hands stuck out through his gloves as he gripped the railing until he swore he could tear the thing off and wield it as his very own sword.

Andrei’s death was going to mean something.

Luca would not stop until there was a cure, until everyone who turned their backs on them – not just Luca and Andrei, but everyone dying from this plague - had no choice but to look them in the eye and see they were human beings, that they weren’t going to roll over and die quietly. He would fight. He was going to scream and shout until someone heard him and his story. Andrei’s story.

The world was going to know.

With a sigh, Luca decided it was probably time to face their silent apartment, and pulled himself away from the railing. His sister would be around in the morning to take care of him, to discuss their future.

Not to mention, he needed to wish her a Merry Fucking Christmas.


End file.
